But I'm Still Bleeding
by Dark Glass Marionette
Summary: Because it was never over to begin with.  Injuries heal with time, but there is one wound in Chris' heart that will never close... or stop bleeding.  *Rated M for mature and dark content; no pairings*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This makes my 60th story! I came up with this oneshot a few days ago, whilst I was listening to Red. I don't know why it hit me, but I felt like writing something as **DARK** as this. Yes, guys: dark as in dark, with blood and a bit of swearing. It will be a three-shot: this chapter and two different endings. Yes, evil cliffy at the end, people. I'll leave this here for a while before updating, see what you think happened. Now, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: Apply the usual here.**

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_This sh__ouldn't have happened._

And that was the umpteenth time that thought crossed his head.

Chris swallowed hard, drumming his fingers on the table, as he stared at the only person he would anything to get rid of. His anger was closer to getting out of control when Chris looked at him again: so calm, so confident… He didn't even bother to open his eyes and he wouldn't fight. He was there, sitting with his back against the wall, waiting for something to happen. And to make matters worse, it wouldn't be Chris who would negotiate with him, but Jill.

_He's alive. _

It was a grim statement that had come as a bad joke less than two weeks ago. It had been six months since the Uroboros outbreak in Africa, six months since Chris and Jill had started a new life away from biological weapons and death, six months since Jill had been close to going insane. The trauma had been even worse than what Chris and Jill's counselor had foreseen; during those first weeks after their return, Chris realized that Wesker had won even another battle: the trauma had also gotten him.

Then, as things started going uphill, they'd gotten news from a close friend and one of the founding eleven, Oliver Graves. The news hit them like a bucket of cold water: the West Africa branch had reported seeing Wesker alive once more. The tension increased when Chris, as he one day walked through the halls of HQ in D.C, could actually feel the weight on his chest become heavier. It was all because Wesker _was_ there, in seclusion, kept isolated from the world. Oliver had had him brought to the States to avoid more chaos in Africa, but that chaos had started to build up in Chris' mind.

Because he couldn't take seeing him anymore.

He'd worried the most about Jill, considering the hell she'd been through before and after Wesker's (now supposed) death. Chris had seen it in her features, in her demeanor, in her usual mood: it had reverted back to how it was before. Jill had remained calm, however, unfazed by Wesker's presence and Chris was still wondering if Jill's heart had become of stone, impenetrable and unfeeling. She didn't even make mention of her trauma, she didn't ask Chris for any kind of support, but there was something different: a dark gleam had invaded her eyes, visible every time Wesker was mentioned.

Like Chris so long ago, Jill was becoming the hunter.

Which was why, right now, she'd go in and talk… or at least try to.

Jill was standing firm next to Chris, her gaze never leaving Wesker. Plucking out determination, Chris asked, "Are you sure about this?"

"Last time you tried, things didn't get any better," Jill snapped back, rolling her eyes. "Look, this isn't just about me: it's about knowing what the fuck he was from us. And don't worry if I snap this time, because it's my right to."

Chris chuckled, bitter. "No need to tell me."

"If things get out of hand, though, we _will_ step in," Oliver piped up, firm. "We couldn't care less about that sorry bastard, but it's your state that will make us intervene. Jill, don't hesitate to give him a piece of your mind."

Both Chris and Jill looked at Oliver, curious. "I thought you were supposed to watch out for any kind of problem."

"I couldn't care less what Desmond says," Oliver replied, folding his arms across his chest. "You've shared details of your history with Wesker with me than with anybody else, which is why I'll turn a blind eye to this. You're at your leisure, Jill."

She nodded, cracking a brief, thankful smile. "Thanks, Oliver, I appreciate that." She blew out sharply, determination flickering in her gaze. "I'm going in. Chris?"

"Hm?"

For once, he saw another playful gesture in her: a wink of her eye. "Don't you worry about this. He doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does."

Partly convinced, Chris nodded in return, then Jill slowly made her way into the room. At this, Wesker opened his eyes with no other gesture, much to Chris' surprise. He and Jill stared at one another in silence, and that was when the tension began to spike.

"I didn't think you'd show up."

"I hope you enjoy disappointment, because you'll deal with me this time," Jill declared, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "I'm patient and I know you well enough. Nothing you say will harm me."

"It's not my intention to hurt you," Wesker replied. "After all, I already have in the past, so why bother now? Say, are you here to humor me or to _actually_ talk with me?"

"The latter; you're not exactly known for your sense of humor," said Jill. There was a very light change in Wesker's countenance, then his usual smile crept up to his face.

"You sound like me. Looks like you learnt something after so long in my company."

Chris clenched his fist, feeling like the prompt was meant for him, but it didn't take Jill long to reply. "More than you know. And since you look talkative today, let me ask you this: how the _hell_ are you _still_ alive?"

Wesker chuckled, a sound that had echoed in Chris' mind for more than he could remember.

"I already told you: you can't kill me. I'm wondering why it is that you don't desist and leave me alone. You can't kill a god."

"Bullshit; you've died thrice," Jill spat, her tone hardening. "No matter if you came back, Chris and I killed you three _fucking_ times."

"You can't kill a _shadow_."

At this, Jill seemed to hesitate, the first noticeable change in _her_ expression. Chris, while surprised, also feared the worst. Wesker stood up as Jill stared, her stance still firm. And for once after a long time, both Chris and Jill were face to face to the _true_ face of the man they'd been chasing for their entire lives.

"A shadow, huh?" Jill scoffed.

"Exactly. Why do you think I haven't left you alone all this time and vice versa?" Wesker spoke with a crooked grin, his stance now as firm as Jill's. "Because as long as there is light, there will be shadow: as long as _you two_ are here, _I _will never disappear. Do you believe me now?" He made no pause, but took a step closer to Jill. "I'm sure you're convinced, specially after all this time. I'm sure you haven't been able to block all the memories, now have you? Maybe Chris reminded you of everything?"

"_Don't _get him into this!" Jill bellowed, and Chris finally saw the spark come to life: Jill took Wesker by the collar and pinned him against the wall, seething. "This is between you and me! _YOU_ were the one who fucked up my entire life, and there has never been a person I've loved more than him! I've made him suffer, I know, and I apologized _countless_ times! If I'm here, it's because it's _my_ business!" Tears rolled down her face, but her anger only flared up. "I'm facing you because I _want _to, because I don't care what you do to me! I'll never give up!"

"Then you admit I've won?" Wesker inquired, his grin growing wider. "That's humble of you."

"I fell because you broke me, but I've risen again thanks to my and Chris' efforts!" said Jill, her fist clenching tighter. Then, after a moment of rage and disdain, Jill backed away, derision in her eyes. Chris had never seen her act in such a way. "I pity you. You may think you're above us, but you're wrong. You could never catch up to us to begin with, and you'll _never_ get me."

A moment of silence, during which Chris stood dumbstruck. He allowed himself a proud smile, wishing for just a moment that Jill could see him.

But his relief was short-lived. Wesker chuckled again, this time louder, until seconds later only his laughter could be heard. Chris now doubted whether to consider a lethal virus scarier than a laughing Wesker. Not because of the fact Chris had never heard him laugh, but because that laugh seemed to come from the Devil himself: there was nothing human in it.

"And who said I'd returned because of _you_?" Wesker inquired, wicked mirth fuelling the energy in his voice. Jill suddenly turned pale, all traces of determination and bravado gone. "That's it; you _finally_ realized!" He raked a hand through his hair. "And I know you're watching, Chris, so mark my words!"

He made a pause, during which he got suspiciously close to the glass pane. Then, it burst into bits, shards flying in every direction. There were so many Chris was momentarily blinded, feeling how they pierced his skin and drew blood. Most of them injured his forehead, and the numerous cuts started bleeding dangerously fast. Then he remembered Jill and Oliver, turned his head to look for them, but only Wesker was there… and inches away from him.

"You're mine."

"NO! Stay away from him, you bastard!"

Chris seized the chance to slip away and get to where Jill was. "Come on, let's go!"

"I'm injured, Chris; you have to leave!" she urged in despair. Her eyes grew wide. "Chris, WATCH OUT!"

He could barely turn before a fist connected with his face and sent him crashing against the wall. Chris tried to recover, disoriented, but the mere force of the blow had left him unable to focus his sight on anything. With nothing but instinct to guide him, he rose to his feet, cursing his blindness due to the blood that fell on his eyes, and then he found himself with an arm around his neck, locked in place.

"And the best thing is that I'm going to finish both of you here and now." A pang of fear bolted through Chris who, rigid, realized he was unable to fight. That fear transformed into panic when he heard Jill call out his name. "And dear Jill will be watching you _bleed_."

Wesker was the one to wipe the blood off his eyes. For a moment, when he was able to see, Chris wished he had stayed blind: Jill was on the floor, unable to stand up because of the two large shards that had pierced either thigh, watching helpless as tears flowed freely. "Please DON'T!" she begged.

"You wanted me to disappear? This is the only way," Wesker said, then he tightened his hold around Chris' neck. "Go on, say something to her. Soothe her pain, or will you let her suffer because of it?"

"Let him go!" Jill exclaimed.

"Jill, _please_!" Chris burst out with as much strength as he could muster. She froze, staring at him. "It's… it's the only way. I'm… Don't make this any harder… on yourself. It's… selfless of me but… I'm willing to repay the favor."

"If that's the case, any last requests?"

"Two, actually." Chris smiled bitterly. He looked at Jill, erasing all bitterness from his smile and replacing it with kindness. "Don't cry anymore. And to you…" It would be risky, but it was worth taking such a risk. Chris knew Wesker would react before he could even blink and that he'd be dead in milliseconds, but if it was all to save Jill's life… then he was content. He could give it one last try.

"Go to Hell and STAY THERE!"

Even more blood stained his hands, and then he knew it was over.

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_A/N: Evil cliffy, yes. I just ask for a review on this, if anybody reads it, and that you enjoy it. I warned you: it was dark._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks for the feedback, people! It's really appreciated. Anyway, first of the two endings: of course, let's go with the good news first xD This was kinda hard to write, specially Wesker. I'm not used to doing what I do in this chapter. Anyway, enjoy!^^

**Disclaimer: Apply the usual here.  
Note: Oliver Graves is my OC, so I do own him.**

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Everything happened so fast Chris had no time to actually notice it.

The only things he could feel were his hands, bathed in something warm; the glass shard he was gripping dangerously close to his side and his own heart, pounding furiously in his chest. His knees buckled, barely standing because of Wesker's grip… which went slack, setting Chris free. He fell to his knees, cold sweat and blood caked on his skin, and then he looked back. What he saw did nothing more than unsettle him.

Wesker, back against the wall, was staring in the mildest of shocks at the bloody shard piercing his side. He didn't seem to mind the pain: he only touched his hand to his wound and fixed his widening eyes upon it. His legs finally gave in and like Chris, he also slid down to the floor, his gaze not leaving his hand.

"Chris!" he heard Jill exclaim. Chris pulled her closer, picked her up in his arms, but he didn't stand up. Again, he focused on Wesker, who now was _truly_ in shock. Blood was pooling under him; there were no attempts to stop its flow. And for the first time in their lives, Chris and Jill saw the natural emotion of a human, one that showed them _what _their enemy had always been.

Fear.

"I'm bleeding…" Wesker chuckled, but that fear didn't leave. "I actually thought… I couldn't do that anymore…" His face contorted in pain, flinching as his state became worse. "God, it… burns!"

"There's nothing that can save you now," Chris breathed out, trying to calm the knot in his stomach. It was not of joy, it was not of sorrow, but of true fear and shock as well.

"The last remains of the virus will keep me alive… for some time. That's something, wouldn't you say?" Wesker opened his eyes, full of amusement this time, but Chris wasn't deterred… or that's what he desperately tried to tell himself.

"Is that… fear I see in _your_ eyes, Chris?" Wesker asked then, smiling briefly. "Are you… afraid of the death of your enemy?"

Finally, Chris dropped the act. Even though the flame of his hatred had burned for _so_ long, he couldn't feel it anymore. Instead, he felt pity, even afraid of imagining dying after leading such an empty life as Wesker's.

"No." His tone hardened a bit. "I'm afraid of _watching you_ die, because I know who- or rather, _what_ is dying. An empty, hollow shell. I can't even call you a monster, because you're not even _that_." Wesker remained still, not looking the least angered or surprised. "Answer me this: who are you?" Chris noticed Jill looking up at him, but he paid her no attention. "I know perfectly who you are, but do _you_ know… Wesker?"

"I do," he immediately replied, cocking his head to one side, "but… that's something I'll keep to myself." Pain seized him again, for he clutched his wound and doubled over. He coughed, blood spewing out of his lips. "I… did lose, after all."

Chris couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Wesker, admitting defeat? "Why would you admit that now, in front of us?"

"Just… this petty battle…" Wesker coughed again. His tone came hoarser, "But we will still wage… our war…" He looked up. "And victory _will be mine_."

"Then we'll fight," Jill intervened, her tone strong. "We've done so all these years and though we've fallen, we've learned how to stand up. Thanks to those we care about and that care about us, but not you: you've got nothing."

"Since you say… I've got nothing… then I lose nothing… but win something." Wesker was paling, losing strength; at the sight, Chris did nothing but cringe inside, even more when Wesker's next and last words came. With wide eyes, uncertain about how to feel, Chris watched the evil they'd been chasing disappear: Wesker was gone, never to rise once more.

After overcoming his awe, he looked down at Jill, who seemed tired and whose face had also paled. "Jill! Are you alright?"

"Yeah…" she replied, her voice weak. "I've lost blood, but the wounds aren't too deep. Still… they hurt like hell, to be honest."

"I bet they do."

"Oliver! Are you okay? You hurt?" asked Jill as Oliver stood.

"By some miracle, I'm not," Oliver said, rubbing his neck, eyes closed. "Though the blow knocked me out long enough to miss all this, and I don't regret it. I don't know exactly what happened, but I would've felt like a fifth wheel had I been conscious."

"Don't be an idiot. You could've helped."

Oliver's eyes suddenly grew wide. "Jesus Christ, pal!" he cried, approaching them. "We've got to take care of those wounds. Thank God we've got the med wing nearby."

"They're going to freak out when they see us," Jill teased, punching Chris' arm lightly. Oliver offered Chris a serious look, and he understood: Oliver lifted Jill up and they started for the med wing. "How come nobody came in?"

"Because I told them not to, under any circumstance," said Oliver, then pulled a face in regret. "Though I didn't expect it to turn out this way, truth be told. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Chris shrugged lightly. "I expected something, but not of this calibre."

Silence… then, "So he's gone? For sure now?"

Jill answered in Chris' stead with a firm 'Yes', but he knew she was lying. It wasn't over yet: it would never be until they were still alive. The pain and the suffering would never go away as long as they could still remember it. _Wesker_ would never leave as long as they were alive, as long as they remembered _him_. The war hadn't ended, just the battle, a battle that had lasted thirteen long years.

Fifteen minutes later, he and Jill had received treatment. Fifteen minutes later –_no, thirteen years_-, Chris could finally look up at Jill and smile, hope replacing hatred.

"_I'll… go to Hell, surely, but I'll be back… I've already been there, and I know my way out. What I win… is immortality."_

That's what Wesker had said. It somehow suited him due to his god-complex… but it also suited _them_ because of their unwavering and deep friendship.

_We've both won this time, Wesker, but not the next. As long as Jill and I are together, we'll still__ be one step ahead of you. _

**Our **_game has started, and we move first._

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_A/N: Next up, the other outcome._

_Reviews are appreciated!^^_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **This is so short it's embarrassing, LOL. But instead of overcharging this with details, I wanted to keep it short and convey the biggest and most intense amount of emotion possible. Even I hesitated at halfway: I couldn't pull myself to do this. No, I didn't cry (LOL), but I would've if I'd been softer than I am. This marks the end of this angsty-wicked thingy called a three-shot like mine. I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for your reviews!^^

**Disclaimer: Apply the usual here. Copyright goes to Capcom.**

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She couldn't believe her eyes, and yet she'd seen it.

Jill knew the risk Chris was about to take: she'd seen the shard in his hand, the glint of determination in his eyes, the brief smile on his battered face. She couldn't stop him from trying and so, hopelessly lying on the ground with injured legs, she watched, unmoving. Chris moved his arm back, ready to plunge that shard into Wesker's side, but he was faster. Instead of witnessing Chris' success, she witnessed his defeat.

She witnessed how Wesker's hand came out of Chris' chest.

Blood spattered onto the floor, stained her livid face. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the bloody mess Chris' body was, and even when he collapsed, choking on his own blood, Jill didn't look away. It was only when the realization hit her that she screamed.

"CHRIS!"

Crying out in desperation, she dragged herself up to a sitting position, lifted up Chris' limp body in her arms. He was still breathing, but he wouldn't last long. Anger flared up inside her, panic, helplessness: she didn't know what to do. Training for such a situation for long years and now, she was at loss.

"Get back here, YOU BASTARD!" she bellowed when Wesker turned and started walking away. "GIVE HIM BACK!"

He was leaving: she had to stop him, she had to stop him, she had to KILL him. She would never forgive him: she'd chase him, she'd get her revenge. Her hatred outweighted her panic, leaving her frozen in her place and giving the strength to share one last look with Wesker before he disappeared. "GET BACK-!"

"Jilly…"

She snapped her head back to Chris, staring in horror at the gaping hole. Hot tears rushed forward, blurring her vision. "Oh my God… My god, Chris…" Her voice broke, her stomach lurching.

"Jilly… Thank you…" His voice was hoarse, weak, but the gleam in his eyes didn't fade. Jill broke down, stroking his face one more time so that she could feel the last moments of his warmth. "I… kept… my promise… Don't cry… for me and… live…" Jill wept even harder, touching her forehead to his, and for just one brief moment, she felt his lips brush against hers… one last time. But she couldn't take it: Chris was so cold it was almost inhuman. And that's what alarmed her: she withdrew, blinking several times, only to find Chris' chest wasn't rising anymore.

Jill held him in her arms for longer than she thought, paying no heed to her own wounds anymore. _"Live."_ That had been Chris' last request: that she live… without him. There was no other light that could guide her; it was as if all lights had vanished in the middle of a dark cave. There was no way out.

_How am I going to live now? I need you, Chris; I'm still not strong enough… _

"Please, don't leave me… You've got to come back; I need you more than ever, Chris! You-you weren't meant to die…" Jill clutched his hand, nudged her temple against Chris', and even though she knew it was futile she kept trying. Jill spoke to him, shook him, tried to clean one of his cuts: anything to drown in her own denial, anything to get lost under the tide.

Anything to see his brilliant blue eyes open again.

But when nothing happened, Jill knew she had died along with him. She was more fragile than ever: Chris had been her strength, the only pillar that had always been willing to support her, the piece of her heart that was missing.

And he'd been the most important one. Now that it was gone, nothing was worth it anymore. Why live with a broken heart? Why leave a gaping wound to bleed out until it killed you? Why?

She cried herself to exhaustion, rocking back and forth, mourning over a loss that not so long ago had been like Chris'. Then, a pair of hands came down on her shoulders: it was Oliver. Her tears stopped flowing long enough for her to share a long look with him, one that offered her condolences and that shared her pain. She didn't refrain from weeping again. Jill stared at Chris, looking without seeing. She could only hear her heart skipping a few beats, her own screams echoing in her mind's walls. She swallowed, her lips trembling, and she hugged Chris even tighter, so much it even hurt.

But Chris was gone. Her wound was bleeding.

The yell that tore from her throat shook the entire building.

**End.**


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